


Leave it Alone

by jendavis



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Aliens Make Them Do It, Comment Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-08
Updated: 2010-11-08
Packaged: 2017-10-13 03:29:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/132349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jendavis/pseuds/jendavis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: "SGA, John/Ronon, aliens make them talk about their feelings."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leave it Alone

"I _hate_ this," Ronon said. "Hate them, too." Ronon kicked at the floor of the cell.

"Fuckin' insulting," John ground out, apparently still able to spin generalities, though he knew that, as the drug took hold, he'd lose even that distance. "Violating our brains, making us make fools of ourselves with each other. Just to find out if they can trust us. Force us, like-"

"You say the word, and I'll kill them all," Ronon growled, unabashed by his honesty. That changed, though, pretty quickly as his mouth crumpled, tense against his teeth as he tried in vain to fight the words. "I'll do anything you tell me to. I owe you so much, and I should be better at this, do honorably by you more than I've-"

"Ronon, shut up!" John rubbed a hand over his face. "I mean, I'm fucking sorry. I'll listen to whatever you have to say, whenever you're willing to say it. Just hate that they're forcing all this. Because if you're shamed by this, if it's too much for you, I'm afraid you'll leave me. _Us_. I worry about that. All the damned time. More than I should, and-"

"I'm not going to leave, I fucking swear, and it's not just about making reparations. You. I'm. Here because I want to be. Need. Can we just try and shut up right now? Please? I know I'm weak right now and you have no use for that but I'm af- I'm showing too much, I'm not baring my soul. It's being ripped out, and when you hear-"

Ronon's head rocked back from the blow, and when he opened his eyes, John was staring back at him, horrified.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry, I- I really just wanted to make you stop. Distraction, you know? But it's not working, and I'm making it worse, just like I always fucking do, dragging everyone else down with me. Fucking stupid. I'm so-" John leaned forward, hanging his head, trying to steady his voice. "I was trying to protect. Stop you from talking, and what kind-"

John fell off the bench when Ronon shoved him, landing in an ungraceful sprawl.

"Fuck, don't you apologize. It's okay. Stings, but it's better- Please," he begged, hating the sound of his own voice and joining John on the floor. "Do it again."

"Smacking you up might help, but I don't want to hurt you," John was staring at the dirty floor his head shaking, but his hand came up to clasp briefly at Ronon's forearm. "Never do that. Not that I could, it's not like I'm Superman or anything, I just don't want to be another disappointment chunk of the universe causing you pain-"

"You can't, John. Swear it. I trust you. More than I promised myself I'd trust anyone, but it doesn't feel like failure. You're a good man. Deserve more." Ronon squeezed his eyes shut, tight. "But right now this is too much and I don't want to show you these things, and I can't fucking stop talking and I should be able to control this, but I can't. I wish you weren't here. Don't _want_ your guilt, don't want to see you in the mess hall and have you look away because-"

"Fuck. Ronon." John pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, his tone harsh, preparing for a punch. "Distract me, then. Please."

Ronon pulled John's wrists away from his face, and opened his mouth to speak, panic and another new nervousness in his eyes.

John crushed his mouth against Ronon's, stealing the words from his lips and taking them in unheard. Because this was close, should have been too damned close, but the silence was distance enough. The kiss, the hands pressing against chests, brushing along hips, hooking into waistbands, were connections given freely, keeping them safe until the truth wore off. They were everything.

"I want to hear you. I want to say these things to you sometime," John kissed the words into Ronon's jaw, trailed them down to his collarbone. "Whenever you'll let me."


End file.
